


crying is alright

by chadsuke



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Self-Insert, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadsuke/pseuds/chadsuke
Summary: “-in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.” - C.S. LewisWaking up from the death of your entire family with memories of a past life isn’t something that happens to most people - especially when that past life includes visions of your own future.[A Self Insert!Sasuke fic.]





	1. Thoughts on: The Beginning

I woke up screaming.

A visceral sense of terror gripped my body as I seized up, legs and arms straining against something that wasn’t there, my eyes wide open to white but seeing only red. Red and black and - “foolish little brother” - and the scent of what I dimly recognized as antiseptics couldn’t chase away the sticky scent of blood plaguing me.

I screamed, unseeing, unfeeling, until everything went black... and I sunk back into nightmares.

The next time I woke, I was crying. I could grasp a little better my surroundings - I was lying on a bed in a white room - but I couldn’t... do anything. I rolled over on my side and  _wept._

A gentle hand touched my shoulder, and I shuddered. The hand pulled away. “Sasuke,” said a quiet, soothing voice. “It’s going to be okay.”

If I had had more of a presence of mind, I would have laughed at that. Nothing was going to be okay. Never again. Instead, I just shook my head, curling further in on myself, and the voice left me alone. I cried myself to sleep.

The third time I woke, I was just... numb. Tired. Emotionally and physically exhausted. Gingerly, I pushed myself into a sitting position, finally - finally - taking stock of where I was.

A hospital. I was sitting on a white hospital bed, IV drip in my left arm (how long was I out?), in a white sterile hospital room. Alone. I felt like throwing up, but I swallowed the bile back down, instead turning to look at the bedside table to my right. It was covered with flowers of such a variety of scents and shapes it made my head spin, but there was something more that I focused on.

A buzzer. I pressed it.

Not even a second passed before an ANBU flickered to stand at my bedside, and I flinched away. They were- They were wearing- Itachi had done the killing in his ANBU uniform, sans mask, and I didn't realize what that would do to me until I saw it.

I threw up.

I had the presence of mind to lean over the side of the bed and aim for the bucket conveniently placed there, but the intermingled smell of vomit, the heady perfume of flowers, and the pervasive scent of antiseptics just made me puke again. A hand gently rubbed my back, and even when I flinched, it didn't pull back. Just rubbed soothingly as I threw up once, twice, three times, until all I was doing was gagging over a disgusting bucket.

Still, the hand stayed, and I was grateful for it as I tried to catch my breath, shudders racking my body. "Water," I managed to rasp out, and the hand disappeared and then reappeared, another hand gently pushing a glass of water into my hands. The first gulp I used to wash out my nasty-tasting mouth, spitting it into the bucket, but the rest I sucked down greedily. It was a balm, a cool rush to soothe my burning throat, and it made me feel a bit less unsettled.

Keeping the glass in my hand, reluctant to give it up, I turned to stare at the wall, away from the bucket but still not looking at the ANBU. "How... long was I out?" I croaked, and wished desperately for more water, but I also didn't want the reassuring hand on my back to disappear.

There was a small moment of silence. "Four days," they said.

Four days. Four days of being the Last Uchiha of Konoha, four days of cleaning up bodies, four days of  _Danzo stealing Uchiha eyes._ My hands went white-knuckled around the cup. "Can... Can I-" I stopped. I couldn't go home.

There were two homes that battled for dominance in my mind. Home, the apartment in Ohio with my dog and occasional visits and frequent phone calls to my family - or home, growing up with my parents and Itachi in the Uchiha district. Neither was here anymore. Neither existed.

The ANBU was waiting patiently, and I attempted to regather my thoughts. "Can I leave yet?" I murmured, and the hand on my back moved, rubbing in soothing circles.

"The Hokage wants to talk to you before you go," they said, and I tensed up. It made perfect sense, but- but- but I wasn't ready to talk to the Hokage yet.

Not when I knew what really happened. (Because of the weird, clashing memories I had to process later because I was  _kind of hysterical right now_.) The ANBU continued, still gently rubbing my back. "You need to stay here for a week, first, though - just in case."

I nodded jerkily. Maybe because they were worried Itachi would come back and finish the job - he would fucking  _never._ Maybe they were worried I would kill myself - no, I hadn't thought about that possibility in years and wouldn't start now. Maybe they weren't sure what Itachi had used on me and wanted to make sure there weren't any medical complications - I doubted it, honestly.

It didn't matter. No matter what, I had a week before I had to face the music, and even though I had been the one to ask if I could go I was immensely relieved to have that time, fuck.

Everything was a huge, colossal mess.

I took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling, before refocusing my gaze on the glass between my palms. "I'm not ready to see the Hokage yet," I told them, my stomach curling in shame - or maybe I just drank that water too fast. Who knew. "Can I... wait until I've checked out in a week...?" I needed as much time as I could to prepare myself, to understand how bumfuck crazy I really was.

The ANBU nodding, maybe. I still couldn't look at them. "Of course, Sasuke," they said, and I was so grateful they called me by my personal name that I teared up a little. I didn't want to be called by my surname, be reminded of what I had lost.

"More water?" I choked, and in the few seconds they disappeared, I quickly wiped at my eyes, sniffling slightly, before my hands were wrapped around another glass. I took just a small sip this time, trembling a little, but it was what I needed. "Can I, um, be alone?" I needed to... to think.

There was silence for a moment, the ANBU's hand unmoving on my back, before they spoke. "I will go," they said, and I felt a rush of gratitude so strong it was dizzying. "But a nurse will be by to check on you soon."

That was fine. Livable. Doable. "Okay," I whispered. "Thank you."

And with that, I was alone.

I had a lot of time to think over the next week. Every single moment of that was necessary to compile a short, mental list of facts.

Fact One: I was Uchiha Sasuke. I remembered growing up in the Uchiha Clan, forever chasing after the brother I adored so much, never needing or making a friend aside from him and Shisui. I remembered desperately trying to live up to my father's impossible-seeming standards, and I remembered everyone dying at my brother's hands.

(I remembered the last one vividly every night and woke up vomiting every morning.)

Fact Two: I remembered being someone else. I remembered growing up in Indiana, moving to Ohio, having an apartment just to myself and my giant, lazy Saint Bernard. I remembered too many siblings to count, parents who did their best even if it wasn't good enough, and a pervasive fear of men I didn't really want to linger on and examine.

(The last thing I recalled was taking my dog for a walk. After that - nothing. No one's names or faces would come to mind, either, not even my own.)

Fact Three: Assuming One's memories were of this life and Two's of a past life, which was an assumption I was rolling with for the moment, I didn't recall remembering being Two until I woke up in the hospital. Maybe the Mangekyou Sharingan had awoken memories of a past life?

(If so, it didn't account for the why my past memories were as clear as day. I remembered both training with Itachi and calling my mom as if they had happened the other day. And...)

Fact Four: I remembered the Uchihas and every other part of my "current" life being fictional in my "past" life. Which really fucked with three a lot.

(Assuming everything was the same as that past fictional anime... It meant I knew a lot of what was to come. Which led into...)

Fact Five: I was seriously, seriously fucked.

But none of that mattered at the moment, at least. There was nothing I could do for now. I was in the hospital, and I had to stay until they cleared me.

The nurses were nice. Fretful. I only saw civilians, no medic-nins - probably because Itachi hadn't left any physical damage. I did see a Yamanaka, though, halfway through the week. Not one I recognized.

She sat in a chair next to the bed, while I curled up in my blankets as far as I could get from her, the empty bedside table nearly cutting into my ribs. (I had long requested the flowers be removed.) "Sasuke," she said calmly, soothingly - likely a long practiced technique. "I wanted to talk to you about how you're feeling right now." Maybe that worked for most children, but...

I just curled up tighter, knees bumping my chin as I hugged my legs to my chest and stared at her in barely concealed terror. If anyone could find me out - for having two sets of memories, for knowing what truly happened at the massacre, for  _knowing the god damn future_ \- it would be her. "I don't. I really, really don't."

Her gaze softened. "I know you don't want to talk about it, believe me, I do, but you cannot be released unless we know you're not a danger to yourself or others." Ah, a different tactic.

The Original (for that was how I now that of the Sasuke I had read of, once upon a life) probably would've seized on that. For an impressionable, traumatized eight-year-old who desperately wanted to get stronger to kill his brother, the idea of being trapped here would've been too much. But I didn't care. "I'm not," I told her, shaking like a leaf but refusing to take my eyes off of her. "Have ANBU watch me if you don't believe me, I don't care. But I don't want to talk to you."

She looked sad. I refused to let myself feel the guilt that expression was probably supposed to inspire. "If you're sure, Sasuke. We can try again later."

I gave her a short, jerky nod and watched her like a hawk as she left, completely unwilling to look away. It was only when the door shut behind her and I had given enough time for her to walk away that I started to cry. I buried my face in my knees and sobbed, trembling and frightened as hell.

In this village, if you conspired against the Hokage, that meant death to your entire family, down to the youngest infant, and Konoha gets to blame it on a scapegoat and still come off as a "nice village". I was.  _Terrified_ that someone would find out what I knew, that this fascist dictatorship of child soldiers deeply scared me, and that I wasn't loyal to it in the slightest. If the Hokage found out, or  _Root_ , or...

Everything about that was terrifying.

To be honest, I probably needed a therapist over this whole thing. I had been cognizant enough in my past life to recognize when I needed one (and I had had far less issues then), but I couldn't tell a single soul about what I knew, what I remembered. So, uh. No therapist.

Damn.

The Yamanaka didn't come back the rest of the week in the hospital, and I... managed. The nightmares didn't stop, but I stopped throwing up every morning - hopefully I was getting used to seeing my entire family slaughtered by my martyr of a brother every night? Hah. Honestly, I probably should have stayed longer. I still wasn't eating a lot or really doing  _anything_ , but the ANBU had said a week, so a week it was.

On the seventh day since I had woken up, I pressed the button again. There was a flicker, and in an instant, the same ANBU from before was kneeling by my bedside. This time, though, they were wearing a black robe over top of their normal uniform - I couldn't see a peep of it, and I relaxed. No throwing up this time. "I'm ready to see the Hokage."

The ANBU inclined their head. "Do you want to walk, or me to carry you?"

I blanched, and quickly shook my head. "Walk. I can walk." No way did I want their hands all over me. They gave me enough room, and I cautiously slid off the bed, slipping my feet into the small sandals sitting there. I hadn't been on the bed the whole time I was here - toiletry needs and whatnot - but it felt like it had been ages since I truly walked around.

The ANBU offered me a hand, and after a moment of consideration, I took it.

We probably made an absurd sight. The Last Uchiha, clad in a too-large T-shirt and shorts, pale and serious as can be, holding hands with a much larger ANBU, wearing a black robe and the typical mask, the only part of them visible being the gloved hand firmly tucked in my much smaller one. Fortunately, we barely saw anyone.

I had been half-expecting to be lead outside, down the street to the Hokage Tower, but in hindsight? Absolutely absurd. I had just now been allowed to leave, I was kind of a mess both emotionally and physically, and they probably didn't want me to get mobbed with people for fear of causing another breakdown. (Which, uh, totally would have happened.)

No, instead, the two of us padded down the hallway, passing a few nurses who dodged, pressing themselves to the wall - even though there was plenty of room - and entered a small room on the left. It looked like a meeting room of some sort, with a whiteboard on the far wall, and a table in the middle surrounded by chairs. The Hokage was sitting in one of the closest ones, and I swallowed sharply.

My first impression, for I had never met the Hokage in this life before, was of both fear and... comfort? There was no denying that he was an imposing man. Even though he was older, white-haired and wrinkled, live spots and stooped, it was clear he was a shinobi. His robes semi-hid the muscles coating his wiry frame, and there was this sense of... strength? Power?  _Something_ that surrounded him that made me loathe to cross him. Still, he smiled gently as the ANBU guided me to a chair next to him, and though I hadn't met my grandfathers in either life, he reminded me of my great-grandfather from my past one, and I relaxed, just a fraction.

"Hello, Sasuke," he said softly, and I did my best to hide a flinch when he set his hand on my head, but didn't quite succeed. "How are you feeling today?"

"...Better," I admitted after a moment, meeting his eyes for a split second and then gazing down at my hands, curled in my lap, instead. "But. Um. I still don't want to talk to that Yamanaka, sir."

"Alright," said the Hokage amiably, and I relaxed a little more. "Do you want to talk to me about it?"

I thought about it. No matter how grandfatherly he might have seemed, he was still, uh, a fascist dictator and would probably lock me up and throw away the key if he ever learned what I knew. Or parade me around as a puppet given my status as the Last Uchiha - either way, NOT good. I shook my head. "You... You know what happened, sir. What- What I saw." My breathing hitched, and I couldn't help but tear up a little as my voice cracked. "How do you  _think_ I feel?"

All of a sudden, I was pulled into an embrace. I flailed a little, panicking, but the Hokage held me close, tight, and the tension slowly slipped away as I leaned into him, arms going limp at my sides. He had that sort of "old people smell" around him, coupled with dust, and it reminded me of my Nana's basement.

I was... so homesick and heartbroken. For both homes of both lives.

He held me, and I cried into him, clutching at his robes as he pulled me into his lap and rocked me gently. I felt like a child - I  _was_ a child, and I was frightened and alone. The Hokage held me until I had cried myself out, exhausted, and then he just tucked me underneath his chin, continuing to rock.

After what felt like at least ten minutes of quiet rocking, enough time for me to begin to calm, the Hokage spoke. "Do you want to return home, Sasuke?"

I nodded without even thinking about it, though that place didn't really exist anymore. The Uchiha district probably wouldn't feel like home, not without the people that lived there. He was quiet for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice was gentle. "You do not have to stay in your district, if you do not want to. You can have an apartment anywhere in the village."

I shook my head, clearing my throat. "Thank you, sir, but I want... I want to stay there. Please." The thought of staying anywhere else was terrifying. I couldn't deal with even more upheaval.

He hmmed, rubbing my back gently. (I felt like an infant but, just this once, I was okay with it.) "If you're sure. Do you want a caretaker? A guardian? Even just someone to cook and clean for you?" I shook my head so fast I was almost dizzy, and the Hokage chuckled. "Very well. There  _will_ be a group of ANBU keeping watch over you, however, though you will not see them unless you want to."

Too relieved by the lack of guardian - though, given he thought I was a normal eight-year-old,  _what the fuck Hokage_ \- I didn't protest it. It made perfect sense to me. "Okay," I whispered. "As long as... nobody else comes into the district."

I began to finally detangle myself from the old man, and he let me pull away, not responding until I was firmly seated in my chair. "Of course. It's all yours to do with as you wish - as is all the money of the Clan. Any money not stated in wills to go to a non-Uchiha has been transferred into one large account for your disposal."

My mind reeled as a I nodded. That was... probably a lot of money. Plus  _everything_ in the Uchiha district... that was a lot to go through, too. To process.

I wondered if Original had ever done that, or if he had just let them be, let them gather dust. I had no idea. It took me a minute to realize the Hokage was waiting patiently for a response, and I flushed slightly. "Um, thank you, sir." I fidgeted a little. "Is there, ah, anything else you needed or can I go now?"

He smiled slightly, giving me another pat on the head. "Yes, you can. Don't worry about the Academy yet - you can take as long of a break as you need."

Well, that was a weight off my shoulders, even if I didn't want to miss too much. "Can... I still get the homework and any notes, thought? I don't want to fall behind."

I felt a strong sense of approval from the Hokage's warm smile at that, and I ducked my head, a bit embarrassed. (Remember, he's a fascist dictator. Fascist dictator.) There was a touch on my arm, and I looked up, jerking away - it was the ANBU. They had been so silent, I had forgotten they were there. "Come," they said. "I'll take you home."

(Hah. Home.)

Nodding, I slipped off the chair, but looked at the village's leader one last time. "Thank you, Lord Hokage," I told him, not wanting to seem, well, disloyal. "For, um, everything."

His smile turned a bit sad, lines of sorrow etching themselves into his elderly face. "I only wish I could do more."

That was how we left him, the ANBU and I. They took my hand, gently pulling me out of the room and down the hall. We were quiet for a moment until I spoke. "Are we going to walk there?"

The ANBU glanced at me and shook their head. "No, I'll flicker us there after I check you out."

That was a relief - I wasn't keen on walking all that way, and I really,  _really_ wasn't keen on the attention. To be honest, that was what was worrying me the most. Just from Original's adventures, I knew I would have a  _lot_ of attention. A  _lot_ of focus, and not for anything I had accomplished. (That would've been okay.) No, just because my entire fucking family died, I was going to get a shitload of attention. Yay!

I got a taste of that while the ANBU was checking me out. They knocked on the door of an office, having a hushed conversation with the woman inside I didn't care much to listen to, while I hovered in the doorway. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I whirled around, defensive and reaching for kunai that weren't there, but it was only an apologetic-looking nurse. "Sorry for scaring you, Sasuke," she said, and I forced myself to relax, shaking my head.

"It's... fine. I just didn't hear you coming." But I should've. She was just a civilian, and while I wasn't a shinobi  _yet..._ It was no excuse.

She nodded. "Sorry, I'm kind of quiet." She hesitated a moment and I stared at her numbly, not sure why she was talking to me. "I, um..." The nurse trailed off, before steeling herself and thrusting a small, takeout-looking box at me. I took it, unthinking. "You're... probably sick of hospital food, Sasuke," she told me, and I unwound a little at the use of my name. "And I wasn't sure how much you know how to cook, so I made you something."

A knot in my chest eased a little. When people suffered a tragedy, you brought them food so they wouldn't have to cook. It was a universal thing, it seemed like - I had no memories of it in my current life, but I hadn't lost someone like this before - and I attempted a tiny smile. "Thank you. Um, what's your name?"

"Ayuko," she said, smiling back. She had perfectly white, straight teeth, wow. Coupled with her cute blue buzzcut and adorable dimples, she was exactly the kind of woman I would have tripped over myself to talk to in my past life. As it was, I was just grateful. "Higurashi Ayuko."

"It's nice to meet you," I told her politely. "Thank you for the food."

Her smile grew a little, and she reached out to ruffle my hair. "I have to start my shift, but I wish you the best, Sasuke. Remember, your whole village is behind you. You're going to rise to the top, don't worry!" And then she was off, missing the flinch I had given at those last words. I hadn't... done anything to deserve that kind of confidence, and it hurt, just a touch.

The ANBU was standing next to me, I realized, and I glanced up at them. "She gave me some food," I told them, even if they had probably witnessed the whole thing. "Can you check it for poison?"

They stared at me for a moment, and I wished I knew what they were feeling behind that white mask. "...Yes," they said finally. "When we reach the Uchiha district."

That was an acceptable answer, and I nodded, reaching up to take their silently offered hand. We walked together, making our way through the hospital once more, but stopped before we hit the entrance. They pulled their hand out of mine, but then offered it to me again - confused, I stared at it. "Give me the box." Oh. I felt stupid. Hastily, I passed it over, and they crouched down next to me. "Do you know how to have a piggy back ride?" It felt very strange to hear the serious ANBU say those words, but I nodded.

"Itachi and I did that a lot."

There was a stifling sort of silence as the ANBU looked me over and then spoke with a slow, measured tone. "If there's another way you want me to carry you-"

I frantically shook my head, cutting them off. "No, no," I said, wincing. That had just sort of come out. "It's fine." As if to prove it was okay, I clambered onto their back right then and there, wrapping my arms loosely around their neck, legs hanging around their waist.

They moved slowly, as if giving me an opportunity to declare it "too much" and jump off, but I didn't, and soon they were out the door, free hand hooked under one of my knees as they leaped to one of the closest rooftops. Then to another, and another, and another-

The wind pushed back my hair, and I couldn't help a small smile. Itachi had never done something like this with me, though Shisui had, once - this was an exhilarating experience, made all the better by the fact we were avoiding people on the streets.

I really,  _really_ didn't want to talk to anyone.

They were fast, though, and the trip felt like it was only two minutes long. It could've been, for all I knew - they were  _fast_. Regardless, it only felt like a few minutes before they were landing smoothly in front of the district. I slid off their back and looked around. It was... silent. Dead. It was as if not just the district was empty of people, but all the buildings by it as well. The sound of people seemed far away, a distant noise that seemed to come from another world.

I shuddered. Could I get used to this?

The ANBU hadn't gotten up from where they knelt. Instead, they looked steadily at me, one gloved hand glowing blue and hovering over the container of food. "Do you want me to come with you?" they asked, and I shook my head.

"No," I said, trying really hard to make myself mean it. "I'm fine."

They nodded slowly, and offered the container, the glowing stopping. "It's safe to eat, Sasuke."

I took it carefully, looking down at it, and the ANBU rested a hand gently on my head. "Just call for me if you need me," they said, and then, in a blink, they were gone.

And I was alone.

For a long moment, I just stared at the entrance to the district, trying to work up the courage to go in. Just a week and a half ago, this place was buzzing with noise, with people, with life. Now, though... it was dead. In more ways than one.

I took a deep breath, clutching the food tightly to me, and walk inside.

There wasn't any blood. No bodies, no nothing to show that a literal genocide had occurred here less than two weeks ago. Just... small things. An empty cart overturned and left on the side of the road. A comb I almost stepped on and quickly skirted round, not wanting to break it.

Automatically, I found my feet tracing the familiar path to my house. I couldn't- couldn't redirect myself anywhere else, just followed the well-trodden route until I was standing on the porch.

I took a deep breath, inhale, exhale. "I'm home," I said softly, and then I slid open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm I love self insert fics welcome aboard
> 
> no update schedule as of yet! this is just pretty therapeutic for me to write so i'll write it when i need it, haha.


	2. Thoughts on: Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i probably should've been working on femslash february instead but like. oh well.

The first thing I did was take a shower.

Well, not quite. The first thing I actually did was take off my shoes and set them neatly by the door, then put my food in the fridge (it was almost bare…), and then, finally, I took a shower.

I wasn’t ready to enter my room – anyone’s room, really – so I left my clothes in a crumbled heap in the bathroom before scalding myself with water. The hotter the better. Maybe I could peel the skin from my body, watch it wash down the drain, and start all over again. Rip every impurity out of me, taint every piece of darkness sunk into my veins.

Heh. As if.

I laughed a little, leaning against the back wall of the shower, and then laughed again, sinking down until I was seated, hands buried in my hair as I stared at absolutely nothing. My limbs were shaking – every part of me was shaking and oh, oh, I was crying.

It was hard to realize at first, the salty tears intermingling with the boiling water hitting my face, but I could taste it after a few minutes. I was so disconnected from my body that I couldn’t even feel myself _cry._ Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

I leaned over and _wept,_ curling into a ball on the floor with sobs wracking every inch of my body as the shower beat down on me from above.

Maybe it was only five minutes. Maybe it was ten. Maybe thirty. I couldn’t tell – my sense of time and my attunement with my body was so out of whack that it could be the next _day_ for all I knew. Because I didn’t. Know at all.

Whatever it was, I uncurled eventually. Washed my hair silently, and then my body, conditioned as I was supposed to, and stepped out of the shower. I didn’t grab a towel, letting water drip onto the floor as I stared in the mirror.

I was red, of course. The shower was _hot_ and it showed in every inch of my skin, and I was grateful for that. With the red, I just looked silly, instead of haggard, exhausted, ready to rend myself from limb to limb and burrow into the darkness deep in this district. It was comforting, but I couldn’t look at myself too long.

Instead, I turned, grabbing a towel from the cupboard and wrapping it about myself. No drying, no – I headed out, leaving little wet footprints, headed for one spot.

Itachi’s room.

It didn’t look touched, dark and quiet, as I slid the door open. That had to be a lie – there was no way that ANBU wouldn’t have combed through this room twice over, or every room in this house. Even if the Hokage hadn’t ordered anything, knowing the truth, Danzo would’ve.

Still, it didn’t look any different, and a sob curled in my throat.

Any moment, Itachi would be coming here. He’d come to train me, or to poke me on the head and say he would _later_ , or maybe he had something to do that had nothing to do with me and he’d just ruffle my hair before he left. Something. Anything.

I cried, again. Leaned against the doorframe and cried more tears that I didn’t even know I had, cried until my chest was heaving and my limbs were shaking and I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t stand here and cry so I pushed away, into the room, and walked, still crying crying crying.

The trail of footprints and tears I left marred the room, marred the illusion that it hadn’t changed, and I stumbled slightly, barely managing to catch myself before I fell. I had one target: the closet.

Maybe it was morbid. Maybe it was going to make the ANBU worry even more for my mental health – I didn’t really care. What I did care about was sliding open the closet door, rummaging around in the basket that held Itachi’s dirty clothes, and pulling out a shirt. It wasn’t covered in dirt, or blood, or anything like that, just worn.

It smelled like him.

I dropped the towel, slipping it on – he was much bigger than me. It reminded me of my past life, when I was young and wore my dad’s overlarge shirts to bed as my pajamas. Here, in this life, Itachi’s shirts would be my pajamas.

Leaving my towel on the floor, uncaring of whatever lights I left on in various rooms of the house, uncaring of my clothes dropped in the bathroom, uncaring, even, that I wasn’t wearing any underwear – I crawled into Itachi’s bed and closed my eyes.

It smelled like him, too.

* * *

By the time I woke, it was dark out. Was this how I was going to be? Nocturnal? It was almost appealing – I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. But I knew I couldn’t do that, not if I wanted to get to the things on my to-do list.

Right. My to-do list. The one that only existed in my head.

With a groan, I forced myself out of bed, dragging the comforter along with me like an oversized blanket. I made a detour to my room (carefully. Not looking at anything No I Was Not Prepared For This Yet) to pick up a pair of boxers and then walked to the kitchen. I had left the light on, and that was a welcome relief.

Even though I wasn’t hungry, I heated up a little of the food the nurse had given me – chicken yakisoba, which was pretty good – which I forced down while rummaging in the kitchen drawers for something to write on, anything.

There was a notepad in the drawer by the stove, and it had Mother’s writing on it. I stared at it, for a moment. Nothing important, just banal tasks, a grocery list, but it- it-

I very, very carefully pulled those pages off the top, setting them in the drawer, and returned to the kitchen table with my now-blank pad.

The first thing I needed to do was record the details. What I remembered from the world of the Original, everything that had happened. “Part One” was easy. I remembered Wave, the Chunin exams, the defection – even some fillers that happened during said time, though I didn’t know if any of them would apply here. That part was simple.

Post-defection, though… Shippuden… I more remembered the overarching plot than anything else. I knew the members of Akatsuki, I knew of Original’s fight with Itachi and how he had been told the truth, I knew of Kaguya and the war and of Naruto and Original’s final fight, but… I didn’t remember how it all fit together. What happened when? Why did certain things occur? There were a lot of blank gaps, and it was frustrating.

Still, I dutifully recorded every single scrap of information I could remember, making sure it was in code. One line in English, and then the next line in Spanish – even if someone, somehow, knew one of these languages within the hidden nations (which I highly doubted), it was incredibly unlikely they’d know both. I was also as vague as possible – no names, but simply nicknames that only I would understand.

(No one would ever guess that Deidara was my ‘hand mouth boy’.)

Once written, I stared at the lengthy pages. There… wasn’t much I could do about them, at this time. It was kind of excruciating. I was an academy student, only eight years old, and there was so much that needed to be done but I didn’t

Have

Enough

_Time._

Honestly, the clear goal seemed to be to graduate as soon as possible. I could only affect the other students while I was here, and while my heart sunk a little at the thought of abandoning Team 7, they’d end up okay. Getting away from all the fangirls seemed like an added bonus.

So that was my next step. Graduate as early as possible. It was too late to graduate this year, but if I could graduate at the age of nine, that would set me three years ahead of canon. Perfect.

Tearing those pages off the pad and setting them aside to be dealt with later, _much_ later, I focused on my new list, carefully writing ‘To-Do’ at the top. This, I wrote in Japanese – none of this would be a secret. ANBU could read it all they wanted, I didn’t care.

I needed to focus on two things, in the next year. One, graduating. I knew of the practical skills involved, and already had those somewhat down, but I didn’t know about the written exam. Carefully, I wrote ‘Ask Iruka-sensei’ at the top of my list. For now, the academy was, uh, not going to be a thing, at least for a week at minimum, but I would ask him immediately when I decided I could finally attend.

The second thing to focus on was my mental health.

Original had struggled with mental illness. Past me had struggled with the same, as well as ADHD – and I could feel both of them already drowning me as I sat at the table. If I did nothing about it, I could probably, _probably_ last, but it. It would be consuming, and I could already see myself as similar to Original, watching the entire world burn and wrapped in a choking depressive apathy so sick I wouldn’t _care._

I shuddered, dropping the pen on the table and watching it roll as I hugged myself, one hand shaking so hard it beat a percussive drum on my arm. No, no no no no. I didn’t want to do that. To be that. To reject everyone and the world so thoroughly that I was nothing, had nothing, nothing but anger and rage and sorrow and fear.

The terrifying part was that every piece of that was _understandable._ My whole family was slaughtered and yet Sarutobi sat in his tower and pretended it wasn’t him, it wasn’t Konoha, and all of Konoha probably pitied me and spoke softly and didn’t know that Danzo was furrowing through the cracks, the foundation, spreading a deep darkness that couldn’t be rid unless everything was destroyed. Until Konoha was wiped off the map. I didn’t have that deep seated loyalty that other shinobi had to the Hokage, to their village, and I didn’t think I ever would – if someone knew this, I could die. Life snuffed out, just like that.

God, I wanted to run. I wanted to just leave, slip out the gates and run run run until I found Itachi and just throw myself into his arms and cried. He was all I wanted, right now. He was the only one I could trust, I loved loved loved him _so much_ , I-

I laid my head down on the table and cried again.

Everything about this was so overwhelming and terrifying and all-consuming that I just. Wanted to curl up in Itachi’s bed and never get up again. Could anyone blame me? No, no, god.

But if I didn’t get up again, I’d die.

It probably took me about ten minutes to cry myself out and control my breathing, inhale, exhale, steady steady steady until I felt sane enough to sit upright once more. The pen hadn’t fallen off the table, and I reached out for it, gripping it tight and just _breathing._

Sufficiently calmed, at least enough to make a list (lists. Lists were nice and calming and soothing and kept me on track. Lists!), I tried again. ‘Shopping’ made its way onto the list – I didn’t know how much food I had, and I definitely needed some notebooks and mechanical pencils or I would be driven slowly insane. And candles!

Fuck, I really needed some candles.

I considered everything for a moment more, and then wrote ‘Dog?’ on the list. I liked both animals. Cats and dogs. Cats were more Uchiha, but I would have to visit Nekobaa to get a cat, and I didn’t really think I was up for that yet. But dogs… I could get a dog from the Inuzukas, and dogs were a lot more cuddly and they could probably get me a _therapy_ dog and-

Yeah, a dog sounded like a good idea. Then I wouldn’t be alone in the compound anymore.

I scribbled out the question mark, and surveying the list.

  * Ask Iruka-sensei
  * Shopping
  * Dog



It seemed so… so sparse, but I didn’t really know what else I had to do. Aside from training, which I felt was sort of implied but quickly added to the list anyway, bringing it up to four. Was there anything else? Could I think of a single other thing?

No. No, I couldn’t.

I pulled that page off the pad, and started on a shopping list. I needed food – probably stuff that wouldn’t expire soon, since it was just me, but I did need some fruits and veggies interspersed in there. Especially tomatoes and cucumbers – the favorites of two separate lives. Candles were a must, as they were calming and focusing, as were notepads and mechanical pencils.

A nice, soft blanket wouldn’t go amiss, because dragging the comforter everywhere didn’t quite seem practical, and probably some fuzzy slippers. I’d get fuzzy pajamas, too, but I already had my pajamas set for the time being.

I couldn’t think of anything else now, either, so I left it. There was no reason to clean up the table, so I didn’t – instead, I made sure to turn off all the lights in the house, this time. My clothes were retrieved from the bathroom and tossed in my dirty clothes basket in my room (I didn’t. look around I really couldn’t bear it. still not yet) and I made sure to swing by and grab the comforter from the kitchen before making my way back to Itachi’s room.

Here, I would sleep best, wearing his clothes and surrounded by his scent, and god, I just… I just really wanted him, so badly.

I cried myself to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, I didn’t want until 10 am. That was unusual for me. In my past life, I had to be up at 4 am most days for work – on the days I had off, I usually only slept in until 8, because there was always so much to do. In this life, I needed to go to school, and even on the weekends Mother and Father would never let me sleep in this late.

Now, there was no one here to wake me, and no obligations.

Well, for now, at least. I had no idea what day of the week it was. Maybe there was school, but no one was making me go right now. Thank goodness. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle that.

To be honest, I had planned on giving myself a little more time to just… be. Eat some food today, do some training, maybe find some books and read them, but no people. I didn’t know if I could have a conversation or even exist outside these walls, and yet-

Yet-

It was so quiet. Too quiet. I choked on the suffocating silence in the air, leaning over my yakisoba and trembling, trying not to spit all the food right back up again. It was a close call, and I only barely managed to swallow, trembling and shaking and trying to block out the silence somehow.

There had to be music players here. Yes, yes there were, I knew there were, Shisui had one. I could go take his and use it, that would drown it all out-

I ran to the sink and dryheaved. I couldn’t. Couldn’t go through Shisui’s house, god, I couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t-

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Breathe.

I sat down on the kitchen floor, letting my head hang down between my knees, and breathed, inhale, exhale. I couldn’t handle the silence, that was clear – a day alone in the compound would probably be very bad for me. Shisui had had a music player, but I didn’t think I’d be able to stomach digging around in his house. The thought made me sick. I loved Shisui.

So… the best thing to do would probably be to force myself up and to try to go shopping. Or visit the Inuzukas. Either or.

I could decide the specifics later.

For maybe ten more minutes, I sat on that floor, head hanging and just existing. Just… being. Nothing more. When enough time had passed, I forced myself to my feet, finished off the yakisoba, and went to take a shower. This one, a little less scalding. This one, I did not cry in. I even managed to dry off before leaving the bathroom – progress!

My room looked… normal, in the day. It was clean. I couldn’t remember if it had been clean before… before everything happened, or whether ANBU or Root had done it but thinking thoughts like that made me want to throw up so I did my best to shove them out of my mind.

Changing quickly into my usual clothes, a long sleeved collared shirt and shorts, I considered my room for a moment, picking up the towel to put away, before surveying my bed. Mr. Dino was sitting there, prim as could be, on the comforter. I loved that green dinosaur.

I took him.

He smelled like home, smelled like my room and how things could be and I cried a little, into his plush body and furry outside, and I felt the sudden urge to take him with me. He could be my shopping companion.

The thought made me recoil. I was eight years old! I wasn’t a baby, I couldn’t- I couldn’t do something like that! That’d be so embarrassing! What would the other kids say? What would Itachi think, if he knew?

…Itachi probably wouldn’t care, honestly.

Still, I was hesitant to bring him. Instead, I ran over to Itachi’s room, setting him carefully on the unmade bed. That night, I’d sleep with him – and if I really couldn’t handle today, couldn’t handle walking around and being out and about with Mr. Dino with me, then I’d take him tomorrow. Yes. Yes, that would work.

I brushed my hair. Brushed my teeth. Put my towel back on the hook, and surveyed myself in the mirror. I was… pale. I had been pale before, but this looked a little unhealthy. Tired-looking. Exhausted, really. None of that was a surprise, but I was alright enough to head out.

But… money…?

Fuck, I hadn’t thought of that one. It had to be somewhere in my parents’ room, but- but I was incredibly hesitant to enter. The thought was terrifying, really. What… what did I…

Oh!

Stepping out on the porch, I called out softly. “Um, ANBU, sir…?” I didn’t know what gender the ANBU was, but sir was probably gender neutral enough.

In a whirl of leaves, the ANBU was kneeling before me. It was the same one as yesterday. Was a specific ANBU assigned to watch over me? “Yes?” they asked, and I hesitated.

“I, um…” My hands curled in my shirt, and I inhaled, exhaled, tried to focus on the words I needed to say. “I wanted to. Go shopping. But I don’t have… have any money…” My breath hitched – that was technically not the truth, and I tried not to let myself get more emotional, tried to stop myself from crying. “Well… There’s probably some in my parents’ room, but-“

I stopped, because the ANBU was holding out a small purse to me. I took it, opening it up – wow, that was a lot of yen. “I was told to give this to you when you needed it,” they said, and my shoulders slumped with relief. “It was everything that was in your house, and I can get more for you if you need it and don’t want to go to the bank.”

To be honest, it was very unnerving that the ANBU had that much power – or that the Hokage did, rather. Just like that, they could access my bank account. Drain it dry. I would need to put that on my to-do list, to check out my accounts, make sure I kept track of how much I had so money wasn’t swiped from under my nose. The ANBU was still there, though, and I realized I hadn’t said anything. “Thank you,” I told them. “That was all I needed.”

They nodded, and just as fast as they appeared, they were gone.

The purse fit easily inside my pocket (I wondered, briefly, if women’s pants suffered from the same pocketless problem as in my past life), but I went back inside before I left, heading to the kitchen to carefully add ‘Check bank’ to my to-do list. Probably not today, no, but… soon. This week, at least.

Right. I was just procrastinating at this point. Slipping on my sandals, I finally headed out the door.

* * *

The district was quiet – not that I expected anything else. It was almost better than what happened when I emerged into the rest of the world, though, into the rest of the village.

People _stared._

I shoved my hands in my pockets, keeping my head down and resolutely avoiding eye contact with anyone. The Inuzukas were first on my list. If I decided to go shopping afterwards, then it’d be better. I didn’t want to bring perishables with me to talk to Tsume. (Well. I assumed I was talking to Tsume. I had no idea how expansive the Inuzukas were. They weren’t as big as my clan- than it had been, though.)

Thinking about how the Uchiha was a ‘had been’ and not a current made me search desperately for somewhere to duck into, somewhere quiet and where no one would say anything and-

Ichiraku. Of course this would be the moment I saw Ichiraku.

It didn’t matter. It- It didn’t really matter. I scurried into the stall, grateful to not see a soul, and sunk down below the counter, tucked behind the stools, and cried. Maybe if I was quiet about it, maybe if I didn’t make a lot of noise, neither Teuchi nor Ayame would notice me, and I could escape with my dignity intact.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t that lucky.

“Hello?” a male voice said, above the counter, and I sniffled, trying to hold my breath so he wouldn’t hear me. The tears kept coming, though, no matter how hard I tried to suppress them, even pressing my hands over my mouth, and the man – Teuchi – walked around the counter, stopped in front of the stool I was tucked behind, and crouched down.

He looked… concerned for me. Upset. “Hello, little one,” he said, and it didn’t feel demeaning. “What are you doing underneath there?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t talk. Say anything. I looked at him, though, and we met gazes as he surveyed me for a moment. “Sasuke… Uchiha?” he asked, and I nodded.

Teuchi considered me for another moment, before standing up, walking away. I doubted that was the end of it, but it did give me a small moment to try to compose myself. To try to stop crying, to wipe off my face and make myself look a little more presentable, to try to pull myself together.

(I managed to mostly stop crying, at least.)

The man reappeared only a few minutes later, holding a small bowl of miso ramen in his hand, which he offered to me. “I’d rather you eat it at the counter, Sasuke, but if you’d rather have it down here I won’t stop you.”

My throat choked up, and, embarrassingly enough, I started crying again. I did my best to ignore it, sniffling and wiping at my eyes, as I pushed myself to my feet. Teuchi offered me a hand, but I ignored it, clambering up on the stool myself. He set the bowl before me, and I tried a smile. I don’t know if it worked, but Teuchi patted me on the head either way. “Eat up. It’s on the house.”

Suddenly, I was hungry. Maybe it was because I knew this man, even if only from my past life (Mother and Father had never brought me here, nor had Itachi or Shisui or Izumi). Maybe it was because this… this didn’t feel wrong, and maybe it was because I didn’t feel paranoid enough to call the ANBU to test it, because I knew Teuchi would never poison me…

Either way, I ate the whole bowl. I didn’t scarf it down, because I wasn’t particularly inclined to throw up, but I ate it slowly, carefully, bit by bit until there was nothing left. One customer came by in the meantime, a shinobi but I didn’t look at him, very carefully averted my eyes, but he left before I was finished.

Teuchi smiled to see my empty bowl. “I’m glad you liked it. Do you want any more?” I shook my head. I didn’t think I could stomach any more food, not right now. That had been plenty as it was – my time of little to no food in the hospital was something I needed to slowly work past.

But… I needed to thank him. I opened my mouth, trying to force the words out, but- nothing came. Nothing. I closed it, then opened it, and tried again. Teuchi chuckled, and reached out to ruffle my hair once more. “You’re welcome, Sasuke. If you want more later tonight, just stop by, okay? I can even give you some to go.”

I nodded, grateful once more to the kind man, and slipped off the stool. My full stomach made me feel better about this whole adventure and meeting Teuchi made me less afraid. I could do it.

* * *

By the time I got there, I had taken back every single one of my positive thoughts. All of them. People stared everywhere I went, refused to look away and whispered behind their hands and some even talked to me while I stared blankly at them until they got the hint and walked away. One even touched me, reached out to pat me on the shoulder and I flinched away and thank god, thank god that the ANBU was there, in between the two of us in a second.

“Can… can you stay with me the rest of the way?” I asked them, then – I had no trouble talking to the ANBU.

They nodded. “Of course.”

After that, I wasn’t bothered by anyone. Holding hands with an ANBU as we made our way to the Inuzuka compound (or main house? Or. Whatever. I had just told the ANBU where I wanted to go and now they were leading the way) seemed to deter people, but it mean that when they disappeared at the front gate I just about died inside. I didn’t- I wanted to call them back, wanted to have someone there holding my hand, but-

No. No, if I couldn’t even face Tsume Inuzuka by myself, how was I to do anything that I was supposed to in the future? How could I face down Orochimaru? Akatsuki? Obito?

How could I save my brother if I couldn’t even speak with a mother?

Inhale. Exhale. There wasn’t actually a gate so much as an entrance – same with the Uchiha compound, as if a gate would deter any ninja – so I stepped through, following the path until it led me to the large, obvious house right in front of me. This wasn’t like a compound, just the one house and a few smaller buildings, and I took another deep breath before knocking on the door.

The door opened immediately – she had probably seen me coming from a mile away. Tsume Inuzuka was tall, at least compared to me. Shaggy haired, but today just clad in a simple shirt and pants, nothing ninja-esque. She surveyed me, expression unreadable, before kneeling down to my height.

(It wasn’t _that_ insulting.)

“Hey, kid,” she spoke. “Did you need something?”

I tried. I did, I really did, I tried like I had with Teuchi, opening my mouth and willing the words to come out, to say _anything_ , but they wouldn’t come. Nothing came out and my hands wrung in the hem of my shirt and I sniffed, trying not to cry but unable to say anything as I stared at the ground, and Tsume reached out to set a hand on my head. “Ssh, it’s okay,” she said, and I looked up – her expression had softened, and I’m not sure why I was surprised. She was a mother after all.

Carefully, giving me time to pull away, the woman reached out and gently, gently pulled me into a hug. I shook, I trembled, but I didn’t flinch, melting into her despite my reluctance and starting to _bawl._

I was a baby. I felt like one, crying constantly despite every effort to avoid it – my eyes hurt _so much_ , so tired, and I just leaned into her and cried my heart out as she gently cradled me, rubbing my back. After a moment, she stood up, picking me up and holding me on her hip like I was two again, and walked into the house.

I couldn’t see where we were going, was too distressed to even pull away from her shirt, until she sat down and something started sniffing at my back. There was no way I could mistake that for anything else. That was a _dog._

Pulling away from the woman, wiping at my eyes so I could actually see, I couldn’t help the hitch in my breath. Tsume had taken the both of us to what seemed like a living room, and was sitting on the couch with me on her lap and there was a small, brown and white puppy sitting on the couch next to me, already wagging its tail as I looked at it. It was short-haired, floppy ears and a tail that curled up behind it like a husky’s and-

It looked just like my puppy, from a past life.

Tsume smiled. “You can pet her,” she said, and I did, reaching out and letting the puppy sniff my fingers before I started petting, gently rubbing her head and ears. She wore a collar, but no tags, and I glanced up at Tsume, questioningly. “She doesn’t have a name, kid, if that’s what you wanted.”

Oh. A puppy that looked just like mine, with no name and now she was licking my fingers and I slipped off of Tsume’s lap, sitting next to her and gathering the puppy into my arms. She licked my face, now, and I couldn’t help a smile. Yes. Yes, this was exactly why I wanted to be here, why I needed to be here.

After a moment, Tsume reached over to ruffle my hair. “I have some work to do,” she said. “But I’ll still be in the house – feel free to stay as long as you need. Just call me-“ She stopped, then, and frowned. “You should be able to find me easily if you need to. Okay?” I nodded, and she ruffled my hair again (why? Were so many people doing that nowadays?) before getting up to leave.

I’m not sure how long I stayed there. There were a few squeaky toys on the floor, so I slipped off the cough after a while to play, doing tug of war and even a little fetch – though she didn’t give the toy back, of course, so that ended up dissolving into more tug of war after the first throw. Tsume came back to check on me, a few times. Just stopping in the doorway to make sure I was still okay, I was still there.

The third time, she said something. “Kiba’s getting home soon, so I’m making snacks. Is karinto okay?” I nodded – to be honest, I hadn’t really expected Tsume to be a cook, but maybe they were easy to make. I didn’t know.

By the time Kiba showed up, the puppy was asleep. I had exhausted her, a feat I was kind of proud of, and she was curled up on the floor next to me as I leaned back against the sofa. “I’m home!” he yelled, barging in the front door and leaving his sandals by the entrance – presumably by mine. Tsume had taken them from me when she left. By his pounding feet, he was probably running. “Who’s-“

He skidded to a stop, Akamaru nearly launching off his head, when he saw me sitting in his living room. “Oh. Sasuke.” Kiba’s eyes were wide – I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I _could_ say anything. I hadn’t really planned on sticking around long enough to see my classmate, but once I got here, I…

It was hard to leave.

“Sasuke came over to play with one of the puppies,” Tsume told him, whacking him on the head with a spatula. “Be nice. I’m almost done with snacks.”

He perked up. “You made something? What?”

“Karinto.”

The boy let out a whoop, and abandoned his backpack by the doorframe, instead coming over and, after a moment, plopping next to me on the ground. Kiba squinted at the sleeping puppy for a moment – she hadn’t twitched – before grinning at me. “Had fun?”

I hesitated for a moment, before nodding. I had, I truly had. Kiba frowned at me, though. “Not talking?” I shook my head, and he shrugged. “Okay. Whatever. Are you coming back to school soon?”

That… Probably not, and I shook my head. “Luckyyyy,” he said, drawing it out. “I wish _I_ could skip school. We got homework today! It was-“ He stopped as I tapped his shoulder, and I pointed at his backpack. (I wasn’t even going to try talking at this point. It wasn’t working, and I didn’t want to make myself cry in front of _Kiba._ )

It took the boy a moment to suss that one out, and he huffed at me. “You want to see it?” When I nodded, he forced himself up with a groan, stepping up to pick up his whole backpack and dragging it over with him. I didn’t wait for him to go through it, taking one of the pencils from a side pocket and unzipping it, pulling out a random piece of paper, half-crumpled, that Kiba had shoved in it. He didn’t protest, just lifting an eyebrow and staring at me.

Carefully, I wrote along the top of the old assignment. _Can you ask Iruka for a copy for me?_

Kiba shrugged. “Sure, I guess. Why do you _want_ to do homework? It’s boringgggggg.” I didn’t answer, putting the paper and pencil back in, but I didn’t need to. Tsume was there, whacking Kiba on the head again.

“You should be doing your homework!” she scolded. “Learn from Sasuke!” I smiled weakly at that – I didn’t really want to be used as an example.

Any groaning and moaning and huffing and puffing from Kiba was stalled, though, when Tsume set down the bowl of karinto on the coffee table in front of us. These looked just like the standard kind, dough with brown sugar, probably…? She noticed me looking, and winked at me. “There’s sweet potato in the dough. Have as many as you want.”

Kiba grabbed a handful eagerly, and I reached out, carefully taking one. No need to test for poison here. I trusted Tsume, and I took a bite.

It was sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case u cant tell this is going to be an incredibly long fic bc it's mostly just me rambling. expect everything to go incredibly, incredibly slow. tends to be a standard trait for me.
> 
> most likely won't update until march at the earliest, bc i have a lot to write for femslash february. thanks so much for your support!


	3. Thoughts On: Shopping

I stayed for another hour or so. Kiba, with major grumbling, worked on some homework. I sat and pet the sleeping puppy and just. Breathed. It was nice. Tsume packed up some of the leftover karinto for me in a small paper bag and went back to her office – probably something clan-wise, I thought. She had so many people to deal with it would be a surprise if she didn’t have paperwork.

(If it wasn’t just me, now, I would probably have the same.)

It was my cue to leave, though, when Tsume popped her head back in to ask if I wanted to stay for dinner. I shook my head.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s no problem, kid. I usually cook for three but Hana’s on a mission right now.”

Carefully, I shook my head, standing up. I should leave. The Inuzuka looked me up and down, and then patted me on the head. “Alright. Make sure you eat, though.”

Kiba glanced up from his homework. “You’re leaving?” I nodded. “Will you come over tomorrow?”

I hadn’t… really thought about it, and I shrugged. “We can go to the park or somethin’ tomorrow, right, Ma?”

Tsume looked at me. “As long as Sasuke wants to go.” That… I hesitated. Did I want to go to the park? Not really, but… I shrugged again. Socializing was good for mental health, even if I didn’t like it too much. I should probably play and have fun…

Ugh. I didn’t want to.

Right now, though, it didn’t really matter. We could figure that all out tomorrow. Giving both of them a wave, and the puppy one last pet, I headed to the door, toeing on my sandals, and left. I could feel Tsume’s eyes following me, but… it wasn’t unwelcome? Not particularly welcome, either, but it…

She was worried about me, and cared about me, and I tried to shove it out of my mind. As far as I knew, Original and Tsume had never had any sort of relationship, so clearly I was already shifting things away from the Original Course, but that was okay, I thought.

I didn’t so much like the path that Original had walked.

“ANBU?” I called softly, and quick as can be, the ANBU appeared in front of me on one knee. Still in the cloak. It was reassuring every time I saw it. “Can you… help me with grocery shopping? I don’t know where to go…” I had accompanied Mother out grocery shopping, before, but I couldn’t remember very many details about it.

(It kind of hurt to remember, too. I didn’t want to think about it.)

“Let me see your list,” the ANBU said, and I pulled out the folded piece of paper and passed it over. They surveyed it for a moment, before straightening up and offering me their hand. “Do you want to walk?” I nodded, and slipped my small hand into their gloved one.

The first place we stopped is a candle shop. I was kind of surprised there was one, to be honest, but maybe I shouldn’t – my small town, back in my previous life, had had multiple candle shops. A bustling place like Konoha? Of course they’d have at least one.

It was cozy and smelled… nice. I breathed in, breathed out, and headed for the shelves. It was a wooden place, with beautiful dark colors around, and while the shopkeeper, an older woman, introduced herself as Wakao Hinako, she paid me no more mind than another customer, I thought. Good.

That gave me the chance to do what I always did in candle shops: smell every single one.

Sure, once I got to know the place, I would be able to pop in and out, but right now? I had no idea. Stepping from shelf to shelf, I plucked up each and every candle for a whiff. The ANBU followed behind me, and as I found nice scents, I passed the candles to them. This one smelled of cinnamon. This one of roses. Sweet dreams, sandy beaches, pomegranates…

Five is enough, and that’s when I stopped, heading up to the front. Ms. Wakao smiled. “Find everything alright, Sasuke?” she asked me, and though I was faintly annoyed literally everyone in this village already knew my name, I nodded. “Good to hear.” She rang them up, tucking them in a bag along with a coupon for my next visit, but- but as she passed me the bag, she didn’t tell me a total.

I squinted at her. “How much?”

Ms. Wakao shook her head. “On the house. Your Aunt Uruchi was one of my dear friends, and…” Her smile turned a little sad. “This is the least I can do.”

“Oh.” I remembered Aunt Uruchi, though she wasn’t truly my _aunt_ aunt, and Uncle Teyaki. Their bakery was always warm and filled with the most delicious of scents, and they gave me free samples, a lot. They had just been civilians, never even awoke their Sharingan, and yet Itachi had still…

I took the bag. “Thank you,” I said softly, and she just smiled.

* * *

The marketplace, while good for vegetables and fruits, was not so good for crowds. There were so many people, too many, and I stuck close to the ANBU’s side and let _them_ deal with all the vendors.

To be honest, the ANBU probably attracted just as much attention, because it wasn’t often that you saw one of Konoha’s elite walking around the marketplace in full ANBU garb, but I wasn’t about to brave this alone. The shops would be closing down soon, so I needed to get everything soon, but… It was a lot. It was overwhelming.

Someone brushed by me and I stumbled, jerking away from the random civilian and lurching into the ANBU, and their hands caught me and I stared up at them, wide-eyed and terrified. “Sasuke,” they said. “Do you want me to carry you?”

Forget pride, right now I was all of eight years old and terrified and I gratefully accepted their offer, letting them scoop me up, balance me on their hip, and resume getting the items on my list. I had no idea if anyone stared more. What a sight I was. Because all I could do was bury my face into the ANBU’s shoulder and shake.

I half considered asking them to stop by Ichiraku, but no. We were out buying food. I should eat the food. Not let it go bad and not rely on the generosity of strangers too much.

(Though part of me remembered scrimping and saving to pay every bill, eat every meal, and that part of me screamed that free was always good, always always good.)

When the shopping list was done, the ANBU brought me home. We didn’t walk there. The ANBU bounced over rooftops and ran and the wind rustled my hair and my clothes and it was. It was okay. Nice. I didn’t have to move under my own power and we got home so fast fast fast it’s like one moment we were in the marketplace, and the next, back in the Uchiha District.

The ANBU paused at the door to my house, but when I made no move to get off, kept walking in. They started to put the groceries away expertly, with me staying balanced on their hip. “Do you want me to make something, Sasuke?” they asked, and I considered that for a moment. Was I even hungry, though? I wasn’t.

I really, really wasn’t.

For all that I loved food, the idea of consuming something tasted like ashes in my mouth. No. “Just… an apple,” I said weakly, and obligingly, the ANBU passed me one.

Munching on it carefully, I watched the ANBU and observed their movements. I was… curious. Deeply curious as to the identity of my ANBU. (For that is who they were – _my_ ANBU.) There was no way they were Kakashi. Kakashi was definitely not this good with kids. I didn’t think Yamato was, either, but who knew with him. He’d be Tenzo at this time, I supposed.

Other than that, I couldn’t really think of any canonical ANBU from the Timeline Of The Original. There definitely WERE, but I was drawing a blank. Genma, maybe…?

It didn’t. Matter, though.

Because part of me was terrified that if I figured out who this ANBU was, figured out their name and what role they had played in Original’s life, that I would lose my voice.

I couldn’t talk to Teuchi. I couldn’t talk to Tsume, or to Kiba. I managed the Hokage, but I didn’t think I’d be able to do that once more if I had to talk to Sarutobi again. Right now, the only one I could speak to was my ANBU, and I didn’t want to ruin that. Didn’t want my throat to close up and stop me from spouting off words because that would be Too Much To Handle Right Now.

My ANBU finished putting away the groceries, and gently patted me on the back. “Can I put you down now, Sasuke?” they asked, and I considered for a moment, before nodding. They set me down, very carefully, and I swallowed my bite of the apple.

“You can go now,” I told them softly. “I’m going to bed.”

They nodded slightly, and gave my shoulder a light squeeze. Them touching me was okay. I didn’t mind it. “Call me if you need me,” they said, and I nodded, too, and then they’re gone.

I finished my apple, retrieved Itachi’s shirt, and headed to bed in his room again.

* * *

 

When I woke up the next morning, I felt a little less like death. I didn’t shower – I had already showered the day before, and I had long gotten into the habit of every other day unless Very Sweaty And/Or Dirty, and that wasn’t liable to change any time soon.

No. This morning, I was fine.

I woke up. I ate another apple. And then I went into my room, didn’t panic, didn’t panic, and surveyed my closet. Today I… I wanted to wear something I didn’t have. A dress.

Sasuke Uchiha very definitely didn’t own a dress.

Which was kind of a crime, because I _missed_ my sundresses. Missed how they were so terribly easy to toss on and the way they hung around my legs and just. Everything about them and how they fit me, but it made perfect sense that an eight-year-old boy wouldn’t own a dress. It was something I mentally added to my list to add to my PHYSICAL list later.

I could probably find one among the other Uchiha houses, if I cared to look, but the idea made me want to drink bleach. Picking among the dead for clothing was… not something I could do yet. In a bit, maybe. Once they had settled. Once I had settled. But now? No, that… that wasn’t something I could do.

The dress could wait.

Pulling on a pair of white shorts, a black tank top, and a purple short sleeved zip up hoodie I found buried in the back with the Uchiha symbol carefully embroidered on, I considered my day.

Today, I was going to go over to see Kiba, after he got out from school, and go to the park with him. The idea filled me with dread. It pooled in my stomach and I swallowed sharply, standing in the middle of my bedroom and staring at a tiny crack in the wall, my vision tunneling down to just That One Thing. I didn’t want to go to the park. I didn’t want to play. I didn’t want to see anyone else or do anything else or-

“A-ANBU?” I called, softly, because I could feel my breathing hitch and I wanted them, wanted someone, wanted anything and-

The person that appeared in front of me, as if out of thin air, was not my ANBU.

I backpedaled rapidly until I hit the wall, staring at them with horror, with terror, with fear. They stood up properly from where they had been kneeling, lifting their hands up to show they were empty. “I’m sorry for scaring you, Sasuke,” they said blandly and _this was not my ANBU who was this._ “I’m watching you, today.”

The logical part of my mind noted that it was virtually impossible to expect a single shinobi to watch over an eight-year-old 24/7 for an indefinite amount of time.

The logical part of my brain was quickly devoured by the gibbering, absolutely panicked part of my brain that made me sink down against the wall, haul my knees up to my chest and bury my face in them as I tried not to scream or throw up. The strange, new ANBU reached for me, and I chose a third alternative.

I bolted.

Shoving past the ANBU and running out onto the street. Down the district, out of it, not paying attention to the time of day (how early was it?) or the people around me (how many?) or where on earth I was going (where where where where where). I ran and ran until I couldn’t breathe, until I was choking on spit and my lungs were burning and I could keenly, keenly feel how that time spent in the hospital did a number on my physical fitness but I kept going.

My ANBU was gone. I couldn’t. I needed.

Please.

Maybe I didn’t know where I was going, maybe I was doing nothing but moving on autopilot autopilot autopilot, but my body did. To one of the few places that was familiar to the new me, to the me I was now, because the me I was before was different and and and-

Ichiraku.

I skidded to a halt in front of the ramen stand, panting and shaking and knowing knowing KNOWING that the ANBU must be behind me, must be following me and watching me because that was their job but I didn’t TRUST this ANBU, I didn’t KNOW this ANBU, and I. I.

Stop. Breathe. Inhaling, exhaling, I lifted the curtain to step into the ramen stand. It was early, I realized. Breakfast time. (That’s right, I had just gotten dressed…) There was only one person in the stand.

He turned around, glancing back to see who was here, and he stared. Wide-eyed. How much of a mess did I look? “Sasuke?” he blurted, looking me up and down, like he had seen a ghost. “What happened?”

And I did something that the Original would have never done. That the Original would have been very ashamed of, in fact, but that was fine because I didn’t care what the Original thought.

I burst into tears in front of Naruto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's like. half as long as previous chapters and incredibly late but. Here You Go.


End file.
